


death ain't got nothing on you.

by orphan_account



Series: war au's [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Civil War, Enjoyyyy, M/M, basically my normal shoddy writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'It's war, Levi.'</p><p>And it was, but his lips still tasted like honey with the off combination of moonshine and long-smoked tobacco. </p><p>
  <em>But it was war. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	death ain't got nothing on you.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [So This is War](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365127) by [SilverEyedRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverEyedRaven/pseuds/SilverEyedRaven). 



> Okay so, first things first; I have this as being inspired by this really rad poem someone on here wrote and I read a while back. I wasn't thinking of it when I wrote this, but hey, even if it wasn't directly inspired by it, (it isn't even the same war/war era) all of their shit is really good so you should probably read it anyways. And if the they want me to take this down I will. Alsoooo, second. If you're triggered by mentions of death and non-descript yet definitely there "combat scenes," would be the term?? Don't read this. It ain't for you sugar lumps.

I remembered the day that he brought me the weed—its petals drooping, stem bent—telling me he was disappointed. It wasn't the same color as my eyes. 

I thought that was a funny thing for a boy to say. 

.

He was my best friend, the one person I trusted outside of my family—even let him talk to my sister without being in the same room. 

He didn't like my sister, 'like that.'

I realized out in the Virginia fields—that his lips tasted like honey. 

And his eyes were grey and turbulent, like the storm clouds brought in the middle of the summer. 

But his expression was soft, for once, unlike the woolen uniform that called upon us. 

.

I remember him telling me—lecturing me, _ranting_ —about what he believed was right. 

'It's all fucked, Eren. You can't be puttin' a man down, no matter how he looks or how he is!'

'My Pa says—'

'He's wrong, Eren.'

'It's war, Levi.'

And it was, but his lips still tasted like honey with the off combination of moonshine and long-smoked tobacco. 

_But it was war._

.

'He's a yankee sympathizer, Eren! Damn him to hell, he ain't allowed in this house no more, ya hear?'

'But Pa—'

'I said no, son.'

.

It wasn't warm that day, that I sat with him in the center of our big field—the wind biting at my bare skin. 

'My Pa says I'm not supposed to talk to you anymore, Levi.'

'Don't listen to him.' He was begging, and I was broken—had broken before he even asked. 'Please.'

'I won't.'

 _Honey and tobacco, smellin' like sunflowers._

And he was beautiful, with his lips curling up into the vague hints of a smile—like impending doom, disguised in candy wrapping. 

But I smiled back as his hand cupped my cheek, bringing my lips to his— _because I loved him._

.

'I'm doing this for my country, Levi. For my Pa.'

'Eren, please—' 

'No! It's what I've got to do!' 

His hands were shaking like leaves, but it wasn't from the wind. 

'I love you. Don't go.'

'You know I can't say no to my Pa. Or what I've grown up knowin. What I feel for you,' I breathed in—heart racing, lungs inflating—dying slowly, 'the love I've got for you, has gotta come second.' 

He nodded, inky black fringe falling to his eyes—they were grey. I couldn't see them, then.

I regret that. 

—fell to my knees after he left, wet mud sticking to my knees as tears pricked my eyes.

It hurt. 

But I had preached, that _it was war._

Then, had to live with it. 

.

Nothing prepares you for digging through underbrush in ninety degree weather—your wool uniform clinging to your sweat drenched body—nearly dying from a heat stroke with each breath you take.

Wilderness, Virginia—also known as hell on earth. 

No proper cover, no nothing—just mangled twigs and the perspiration on our brows for company. 

It was a battlefield though, and it most certainly was war. 

But I saw him, then—I vaguely registered. His eyes were grey like the woolen threads of my uniform, and I watched them widen as I took aim.

_'It's war, Levi.'_

I didn't have to pull the trigger— _didn't want to, had been trying to protect_ —but he fell, blood rushing from his abdomen.

_'It's war, Levi.'_

I ran to him, impulsive bastard as I was. I was alive, and his eyes met mine—fading, but conscious.

_'It's war, Levi.'_

His lips tasted like rusted copper and tobacco. 

_'It's war, Levi.'_

He whispered that he loved me with a shuddering breath. His eyes closed. I screamed. 

_'It's war, Levi.'_

.

Their uniforms were blue, like the ocean we'd gone on about.

My eyes were green, like the leaves I died on. 

My vision was black, like inky fringe covering storm clouds.

_But it smelled like sunflowers, and tasted like honey._

_That was enough._

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly very lame and I don't know what I was thinking.


End file.
